


Roommates

by punk_rock_yuppie



Series: Hartmon Week 2016 [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: College AU, Day Four, Fluffy, Frenemies to Boyfriends, Hartmon Week 2016, M/M, Open Ending, Silly, high school/college au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 13:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6987565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cisco had gone into his first year of college determined to like his roommate.</p>
<p>Certain things are easier said than done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roommates

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day four of Hartmon Week (high school/college au) and also for the nonny on tumblr who requested a roommates au with Hartmon!

_“Really, again? Cisco this is getting ridiculous.”_

Cisco sighs and looks at his papers and textbooks spread out before him. “Don’t you think I know that, dude?”

_“You need to tell your R.A., this isn’t cool.”_

“I’m not gonna snitch on the guy for getting laid.” Cisco scrubs a hand over his face and sinks lower into the chair, trying to pretend the recliner is plush as opposed to lumpy. “More power to him, it’s cool that he can be out and proud and not give a shit.”

_“Well, yeah,”_ Barry agrees in a tinny voice, _“but you kind of need your room, too, dude.”_

“I’m not getting laid,” Cisco notes.

_“Dorms are for more than getting laid. Where else are you gonna get blackout drunk without totally humiliating yourself?”_ Barry’s voice is teasing but with an underlying trace of exasperation. This is the fourth night in a row Cisco has called him to complain about his roommate.

Hartley Rathaway.

It’s the fourth night in a row that Cisco has been sex-iled from his room, and Cisco agrees: this is getting ridiculous. He also left his physics textbook in his room and that’s what he _really_ needs to be working on right now, but there’s no way in hell he’s gonna try and get back into his room.

It’s a cramped little space, more akin to a hotel room or a prison cell than an apartment; Cisco’s bed is pressed to one side and Hartley’s against the opposite wall, and somehow they’ve managed to cram their two desks into the room too. It’s a tight fit, sure, but it’s become Cisco’s home and he actually kind of enjoys it. And he doesn’t mind Hartley, really. He knows Hartley has had it rough, he’s something of a local celebrity: disowned by his family for being gay, got a full-ride scholarship to any Central City college of his choice, got caught with the Mayor’s son at one point and didn’t back down from the paparazzi. If anything, Cisco respects his roommate.

Except for times like this.

It’s not the sex thing—Cisco means it when he says he’s happy for the guy. Cisco would be just as smug if he were getting laid on a regular basis. It’s not the gay thing, either. Cisco is bisexual, so it isn’t as though the thought of— _gasp_ —gay sex happening in the vicinity of his bed freaks him out. Far from it, actually.

It’s mostly just the sex-iling thing. They’ve barely been at school a month and at least three days out of the week Cisco ends up in rec room to study (and sleep, usually) because Hartley is having another guest over. Cisco is getting a crick in his neck from sleeping on the shitty recliner in the rec room and he’s pretty sure someone is going to start drawing dicks on his face while he sleeps if he leaves himself out in the open like this much more.

_“Cisco, dude? You there?”_

“What? Yeah, Barry, I’m here.”

With Cisco’s attention again gained, Barry launches right back into his rambling about reporting Hartley, about how inconsiderate Hartley is, about how lame this is and how Cisco would be totally welcome in Barry’s dorm if they were even at the same college. Cisco lets it lull him to sleep.

-

Cisco closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and fights back the urge to cry. Hanging on the doorknob, like it has been for eight nights straight now, is a purple sock with an artichoke pattern hanging off the doorknob to his room. Beyond the door, Cisco can faintly hear hitched gasps and the telltale squeak of Hartley’s mattress.

Cisco figures he should at least be happy Hartley has the courtesy to keep it in his own bed, rather than make a mess of Cisco’s. That’d be a serious dick move. Unforgivable.

Cisco tilts his head back and exhales while counting to ten, inhales while doing the same. He keeps doing this until the panic in his heart and the over emotional waves of ridiculous turmoil subside. It’s been a long week, okay? He’s had way too many quizzes and he’s just so tired and at this rate, he’s going to flunk out of college before the first semester is over.

It’s been three months since school started and Cisco wonders if it’d really be that difficult to find a new room at this point. His R.A. had mentioned it’d be tough, that most rooms are full unless he wants to share with three or four people and—and Cisco can barely handle sharing a room with one person, sharing with more probably isn’t a good idea.

Sighing, Cisco knocks on the door. The gasping stops as does the springs’ squeaking.

“Yes?” Hartley calls out, voice sharp with annoyance.

“Dude, please, I need to sleep. I just want to sleep.” Cisco presses his forehead to the door and again has to fight back the urge to cry. He’s just stretched thin. He’s ready to snap. “Please, dude, Hartley, c’mon.”

Silence stretches until finally Cisco catches the sound of Hartley mumbling. “Fine,” he calls out, “just, go to the rec room for ten minutes, okay?” His voice isn’t as annoyed then, a little softer and kind.

Cisco whimpers and it’s an exhausted, pleased noise. “Thank you,” he hisses. He turns on his heel and strides to the rec room and nearly collapses into the chair.

He’s just beginning to dose off when someone clearing their throat catches his attention. Cisco cracks open one eye and looks at Hartley standing in the doorway of the rec room, arms crossed and a guilty expression in place.

Cisco grins, dopey with lack of sleep. “Thank you dude.” He struggles to stand and stumbles over to Hartley to clap him on the shoulder. “You have no idea how much I need this.” He passes Hartley and makes a beeline for the room, as though he might lose his chance at sleeping in his own bed if he waits too long.

He doesn’t even bother changing out of his jeans and t-shirt before he falls face first onto his bed. He can hear Hartley stroll quietly into the room behind him, close and lock the door, then kill the overhead light.

“Good night, Cisco,” Hartley murmurs.

Cisco mumbles what’s meant to be the same sentiment but mostly comes out slurred and muffles against his pillow.

-

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Cisco stares at that purple fucking sock hanging off the doorknob.

Yet again, inside the room, Hartley is gasping and moaning—and Cisco ignores the knee-jerk reaction of arousal it sparks in his gut—and the bed is squeaking.

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me?” Cisco says, louder, earning a dirty look from a passing peer. Cisco kicks the door and the moaning stops abruptly. “Hartley, fucking c’mon!”

Things had been doing so well, too. Hartley hadn’t had any guests over in a while and he and Cisco had been spending the nights in silence, studying together-but-not- _together_. Cisco had been sleeping better, studying better, getting along with Hartley better.

Until now, at least.

“Dude, can you not?”

“Men have needs, Cisco,” Hartley replies.

“I have a huge midterm to study for and I _really_ don’t feel like fighting for space in the rec room on a Thursday night. Please.”

Hartley huffs and Cisco kicks the door again. “Calm down, Cisquito.”

“Don’t call me that.” Cisco glares at the door as though his anger can burn through the word right into Hartley’s stupid face. “Just kick out your dude and let me fucking in, man.”

Silence stretches again. Cisco waits impatiently, tapping his foot and kicking the door at odd intervals. When the door finally clicks from being unlocked, Cisco’s whole body sags with relief.

The relief stops, though, when he realizes that the room is empty aside from Hartley—Hartley who is dressed in jeans and a nice sweater and _definitely_ doesn’t look debauched.

“What the fuck,” Cisco asks as he steps into the room. He drops his backpack beside his bed and looks at Hartley’s bed, perfectly made with not a sheet out of place. “What the fuck,” he says again.

Hartley is blushing bright red and wearing that same guilty expression as before. He scratches the back of his neck and looks anywhere but Cisco. “Uh.”

“Do not tell me you’ve been fucking with me this whole time, dude. _Do not_.”

“Fine,” Hartley snaps, “I won’t tell you.”

Cisco growls and stalks up to Hartley, backs him up against the now-closed bedroom door and gets all up in his face. “You _haven’t_ been having guys over? You just didn’t want me in here?” Cisco can’t help it—it hurts. He never did anything to hurt Hartley, aside from maybe making fun of his not-so-subtle Harry Potter obsession. If anything, they’d been on their way to kinda-sorta being friends the past couple weeks.

“I—it’s not that.” Hartley insists though his face is still screwed up with guilt.

“Then what is it? Because I’m so tired and confused and _so_ sick of this.”

Hartley presses back against the door to put some space between him and Cisco. “I—I’m used to having to defend myself, my sexuality. And I wasn’t sure what kind of guy you were so—god this sounds so stupid.”

“You think?” Cisco asks, though his voice has less venom than before.

“I just—I wanted to kind of scare you off from being a dick about me being gay.”

Cisco blinks at Hartley and watches as Hartley’s skin flushes a deeper and brighter pink. “Are you serious?”

Hartley narrows his eyes and nods.

“You do know I’m bisexual, right?”

Well, if the stunned look on Hartley’s face is anything to go by, that’s a _no_.

Cisco laughs, strained and a bit hysterical. “Dude, I’m bisexual. I’ve been _jealous_ , sure, but I wasn’t gonna give you shit for being gay. Holy fuck, dude, has that seriously been an issue for you before?”

Hartley mumbles something so Cisco leans in closer, gesturing for him to speak up. “You’re my first roommate. I wanted to take preemptive measures.”

Cisco rolls his eyes. “Y’know, if you had just gotten to know me, we could’ve avoided this whole thing.”

Hartley nods, eyes trained on his feet.

“You owe me,” Cisco decides in a light-hearted tone. “Help me study for my music theory midterm?”

Hartley looks up sharply. “You’re taking music theory?”

Cisco shrugs. “It seemed like fun, something to break up the nonstop engineering and physics classes.” Cisco grins at the glint in Hartley’s eyes, one that seems like genuine excitement, lacking a trace of bitterness that’s typically present. “So, help a guy out?”

Hartley bites his lip for a second, as though considering the offer, before nodding rapidly. “Alright, deal.” He holds out his hand for a shake. “It’s the least I can do.”

Cisco laughs. “You’re damn right it’s the least you could do,” and though the words might sound harsh they aren’t mean or sharp. They’re teasing and mostly tired.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Hartley blurts as their hands lock together. The blush returns full force to Hartley’s face and this time bleeds across Cisco’s cheek as well.

“Okay.” Cisco stares with wide eyes at Hartley, as shocked by the offer as he apparently is by his own answer. “We could go tonight. I mean, I _really_ need to study but, uh, after that? We could hit up that twenty-four-hour diner in a few hours.”

Hartley grins, teeth peeking through. “I’d like that.” Finally, their hands drop to their sides again but they’re standing closer than before, toe to toe and close enough to breathe in one another.

It’s the stuff of silly rom-coms, Cisco thinks, but it’s also sort of perfect.  


End file.
